27th Anniversary Celebration - 2014
by RedNightBird
Summary: Written in response to the 27th Anniversary Celebration of the debut of Beauty and the Beast on CBS September 25, 1987.


The Anniversary Challenges

**2014**

For anyone who wishes to submit something 'themed' to the Anniversary celebration this year, please feel free to use the following piece of Sandy Tew's art as inspiration!

(Thank-you, Sandy!)

Rusty Hough Bader tabphb

'Somewhere between Silver and Pearl' Vincent slid his reading glasses down his nose to watch Catherine perform one of their nightly rituals, this one to prepare a little late night dessert.

'Smack in the middle of it aren't we?'

'At 27, yes, yes, we are.' Vincent stretched back, flexed his weary feet and drew his arms behind his head. He could watch her…._forever._

Catherine bent to the crockery where they hid morsels to relish later, 'You know I can feel your eyes.' It was a plain statement, of course he knew that. After all these years the Bond streaked both ways. She adored it; she ate it up ….. Very much like they were about to eat up the tortoni.

'How do you feel about this landmark of sorts?' Now Catherine was upright, her hair responding to her being head down for a few moments it fell in high waves around her face.

'Once upon a time….' Vincent uttered those words and hesitated only to repeat himself, 'Once upon a time I thought it was pure impossibility.' He turned away from her, perhaps to look at the rows of framed sketches from their time together then he lifted his chin and faced her with one hand out fingers beckoning her.

Catherine carried the one luncheon plate back to their bedside and stopped just short of his grasp. 'But you know how I feel about a man's reach.'

With a lusty gust of breath Vincent replied, 'I know how you feel about mine.' Their eyes played games back and forth as Vincent eyed the one plate, the double size serving in one scoop and two forks, 'So we're sharing?'

Catherine stood, plate before her, 'Saving on cleanup, only one dish.' Then she smirked because he knew what to expect. There he was shirtless, clad only in denim jeans, stretched on their quilt topped bed against a cloud of pillows. Did he think she missed this invitation? After 27 years Catherine knew what this pose ignited and the tortoni would be simply an appetizer.

'You know it never gets old.' Catherine whispered with a slow shuffle toward the bedside.

'Well it could melt.' Vincent reached for the plate, his clawed fingertip drawing lightly up her fingers holding the plate, he felt her feign being cross about something going stale so he had to add, 'That's why we should eat this right now.'

Catherine fell into the thrill of that fierce looking nail being so delicately sensual. She let it pull her into his adoring atmosphere. Without words she balanced the dessert while his bare arms surrounded her and his lips caught the whorl of her ear. She fell into that first kiss and his warm inhalation. She would surrender everything to him night after night and yes, she would always 'melt' right into his embrace.

With his welcome savored Catherine crawled to sit between his spread knees, her knees over his muscled denim-clad thighs. Her eyes fell to his chest and she caught her breath, how would she mind her dessert when those unbuttoned jeans played with her imagination?

There Catherine was, her graceful gathered skirt foaming around her as she gave him what he desired so, the sight of her drinking him in, accepting him as he was. Their 'Bond' glistened with memories.

Each of them armed with a fork, Vincent balanced the plate on the flat of his palm then his fork sank tines into the tortoni and lifted it slowly. Catherine's eyes followed his beloved hand as the fork neared her lips. Vincent touched the top of the creamy sweet to her top lip, nudging her lips further apart. Catherine's tongue darted out and swept the cream back into her mouth. It made him smile. Catherine recognized that smile; Vincent's smiles had grown more confident with each year.

Turn after turn Vincent and Catherine fed each other until the plate held melted remnants so meager only Catherine's fingertip could wipe it spotless. Sensually calculating, Vincent placed the forks and plate on the bedside table and caught his lover's wrist gently. The heavy cream, bearing the crushed cookies and almonds beckoned as he caught Catherine's body closely to his. Her breath caught at the feeling of his zipper's warm brass on the back of thigh. There she teetered before he wrapped one arm around her to press close to his bare chest and they were locked in silence as he drew her wrist to his fascinating lips. Their heart beat a wild staccato that spread the moment his lips encompassed her fingertip to consume the 'dessert'.

In Catherine's heart all she wanted his strength poised over her, how easy it would be to fall to the side in a silent invitation. Yet… hadn't Vincent been the one to great her this evening as he basked enticingly in the glow of the candlelight? They had not come this far ignoring each other's invitations. Catherine pressed forward, tilting Vincent closer to his pillow cloud. Her eyelashes grazed his downy cheek as she whispered, 'Catch me.' And she fell, pillowed on her lover's chest.

Time had held them lovingly. As Catherine trailed her fingertips over the ginger patterns of the loops and swirls of Vincent's chest hair she sighed with loving acceptance. Yes, she sent that message to him at every occasion that he shared even a glimpse of is body.

Intimately playful, Vincent's tone of voice defied description, 'Anytime.' In the Tunnel peace their conspiratorial whispers goaded Catherine to giggle girlishly as much as it returned husky rumbles from Vincent. Within tangles of sheets, tangles of clothing and tangles of limbs they played and after they danced on a razor's edge they remembered what all these years together had shown them:

'Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?'[1]

[1] Robert Browning


End file.
